


Of Control

by Puckk



Series: Vignette [2]
Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-04
Updated: 2007-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puckk/pseuds/Puckk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night in the life of Mohinder and pre-reveal Sylar on their murder roadtrip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Control

It’s just another evening.  
  
Most nights Mohinder doesn’t realize, doesn’t figure it out. On those nights things are easier, simpler. Sylar thinks less and feels less, but knows that it’s all a build-up for when Mohinder does realize.  
  
When he doesn’t realize, he sleeps.  
  
Sylar slips into bed behind him, ignoring the other man’s protest at the introduction of cold air and colder feet under the sheets and against his warm, drowsy body.  
  
“Where’ve you been?” Mohinder mumbles with a voice sleep-hazy and confused, deep and scratchy. Just hearing it makes Sylar uncomfortably hot, unbearably possessive. He answers between sharp nips at the other man’s neck, shoulder, ear- any section of the golden skin that he can reach.  
  
Mohinder frowns and tries to roll away, but Sylar won’t let him. It’s about what he wants- it always has been.  
  
“Don’t... matter... now.”  
  
“Zane... stop, Zane. It matters to me.”  
  
Sylar hushes him with a kiss to the lips, coaxing his tongue out to play and feeling an incredible rush when Mohinder just  _let’s go_  beneath him. Gives in to him. He can feel the exact moment when his muscles relax, so trusting and pliant beneath him, so at ease. It’s amazing really, so simple and effortless.  
  
It’s so easy, every time it’s just  _so damn easy._  
  
He can’t get enough.  
  
Sometimes Mohinder will pull away again, insistent and defiant, and sometimes Sylar will think up an excuse and feed it to the other man with a coating sugary enough to appeal to his ever-present sweet tooth.  
  
Mohinder wants to believe, and nothing is easier than giving someone what they want.  
  
Sometimes Mohinder will pull away, insistent and defiant, but Sylar will not be in the mood for explanations. He’ll dig deeper this time, stare into his eyes and take what he needs to take. Do what he needs to do.  
  
Life is about five things: needs, wants, control, desire, and power.   
  
He wants Mohinder’s body, needs his mind, and can control both through desire and power.  
  
Mohinder will sleep when he’s through, silent and deep, breathing soft and untroubled. Sylar will laugh a little, a whispery chuckle of amusement as Mohinder dreams. He already knows how tomorrow will turn out.  
  
It’s all under control.  
  
  
X  
  
  
One day Mohinder sees him.  
  
But one day is every day and Mohinder spends half his time awake and alert and the other half drugged by a maniacal mind, lost within memories that have been removed.  
  
But anyway, Mohinder sees him.  
  
He sees the blood on his hands, the excitement that only comes from having something new, and makes the connection before he can get around to making the words. Sylar watches with curiosity and something close to regret as he sees it all develop behind darkening eyes.  
  
He knew this would happen; it was only a matter of enough time and enough mistakes. Sylar doesn’t make large mistakes, but the tiny ones gather like invisible dust mites until, eventually, even someone as beautifully ignorant as Mohinder cannot help but to acknowledge them.  
  
It is the period around sunset, twilight, and the light is just perfect for watching the crystallization of Mohinder’s tears as they twinkle and drop. There are red streaks in the room, a brilliant blood red that peeks out from between the heavy curtains and makes Sylar look nothing less than the devil himself.  
  
It makes him feel powerful, invincible, fills him with an incredible energy that is so reminiscent of sex and of power.   
  
Of control.  
  
He grins because he can’t contain it, because he can’t  _not._  It needs out, he can’t waste this moment of perfection. Mohinder looks terrified and Sylar can’t help but think it’s a good look on him, one he wouldn’t mind seeing more often. All that’s visible to Mohinder, trembling and shaken but standing his ground, is a scarlet outline and brilliant white teeth.   
  
Sylar stalks away from the window and the light flairs, expands to fill the room with its hue. Mohinder makes a dash for the door but Sylar snatches him around the waist and they end up on the bed in a tangle of lanky arms and legs.   
  
Like an animal sensing his death, Mohinder fights. He claws and screams and kicks, wrestling viciously, frantic and hysterical.  
  
Sylar has power now, though. He has want, desire,  _need._  And most importantly, he has control.  
  
There was never a question. There is no hesitation.  
  
He takes and takes, drunk on success and his own magnificence. There is nothing like crushing something so beautiful, knowing that you and  _only you_  could have done it so effectively. And then doing it again.  
  
Mohinder won’t sleep like this, not voluntarily, but Sylar doesn’t want repercussions in the morning and he’s done for the night. His plan is perfect,  _he_  is perfect, and memories are nothing but messy reminders that linger in the smallest of spaces and threaten to mar his perfection. He’ll have none of that. So he goes deep, and then goes deeper.  
  
Mohinder collapses gracelessly, and although the slack muscles beneath him feel right, it’s not the same rush, the same high.   
  
He takes care of him, gently tucks the sheets around him and gets into the bed himself.  
It’s not the same rush, and as Sylar drifts he plans out tomorrow. However his day goes all hinges on if  _(when)_  Mohinder finds out again. It’s only a matter of time and mistakes- but Sylar has it all under control.  
  
He is nothing without control.

**Author's Note:**

> Non-con is hinted, not explicit.
> 
> (Just backing up my fics from LJ, don't mind me)


End file.
